


Meant to Be

by allantwitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Asexual Castiel, Asexual Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Neighbors, Punk Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 06:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10611057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allantwitty/pseuds/allantwitty
Summary: Dean is Cas's new neighbor that he's pretty sure he's in love with. Dean thinks it's a problem, until it's not.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [its_a_religion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_a_religion/gifts).



> this is for my friend sophie who deserves nothing but good things and love and happiness <3

The first time Dean ever sees Castiel Novak is when he’s taking a couple boxes from the truck out to the shed in the backyard. He’s just walking along, humming Shake It Off (because _Sammy_ was playing it on repeat while they moved in, _not_ because he liked it), minding his own business, when he sees what is possibly the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his _life_.

Holy shit.

There’s a guy standing on the other side of the fence, staring into Dean’s yard. It would be weird if he wasn’t so, well, beautiful. Dean sets the boxes down outside the door of the shed and warily walks over to him.

“Uh, hey,” Dean says, with a dumb little wave of his hand.

“Hello,” he replies, his voice a deep, gravelly croak. The guy has messy dark hair and he’s wearing all black even though it’s currently 81 degrees, and _piercings_. He’s got little rings in his eyebrow, his septum, his lip, and several throughout his ears. And then there’s his fucking _eyes_. They’re the blue you find in rain, the color of the sky on a cloudy day. Dean could easily stare into them for hours on end.

“Guess we’re, uh, neighbors, huh?” Dean says like the genius he is.

“It would appear so.”

“I’m Dean. Winchester,” he gets out, his head filled with heat. He hopes he’s not blushing, but he’s pretty sure that’s a long shot. He feels like he’s swimming in a pool filled with fire, he’s sweating so much, and he doesn’t think that’s from moving the boxes.

“Castiel Novak,” he says.

Dean stares at him with a different look in his eyes this time. “Uh, really? That’s your name?”

“Yes?”

“Weird name,” Dean says, because he’s a tactless idiot. “Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay. I get that a lot. Castiel is the name of an angel. Probably a weird angel, because it _is_ a weird name,” he says.

Dean laughs and says, “Probably.”

“I’m considering changing it to Steve when I turn 18,” Castiel says seriously.

“Nah, don’t change it. It suits you,” Dean says, placing his elbow on the top of the fence and leaning his body against it.

“My weird name suits me?” Cas asks, cocking his eyebrow and squinting. “I see how it is, Winchester.”

Dean flushes and immediately stands up straight. “Oh God, I didn’t mean it like—”

“It’s okay, Dean,” he says easily, with a light chuckle. “I’m just kidding.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dean brings a hand up to rub his neck and he says, because he’s once again, a tactless idiot, “I like your piercings.”

Cas actually looks surprised, with a furrow of his brow and a slight cock of his head to the right. “You do?”

“Yeah, they’re awesome,” he shrugs.

“Oh. Most people disagree.”

“Fuck those people.”

Cas smiles and says, “Well, thank you, Dean.” Dean is probably imagining the twin circles of color on his cheeks. “I like your freckles,” he mutters after a moment, shuffling his feet on the ground.

It’s Dean’s turn to blush, fire encompassing his face and making those freckles he knows to be there stand out even more. “I hate them,” Dean says, refusing the compliment like the asshole he is, turning his head so Cas can’t see them.

“You shouldn’t,” Cas says, his voice solemn.

“Well. Thanks. But I should probably, uh, you know,” he says, pointing to the house behind him with his thumb. “Gotta help unpack and stuff.”

“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Dean. Maybe I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

School. The dreaded new school that Dean was going to be the typical new kid at, suddenly seeming like a much brighter prospect. “Oh yeah, definitely. I’ll see you there,” he says.

“Okay. Bye,” Cas waves.

“Later.”

They stare at each other for a beat before Dean finally drops his eyes and smiles, before turning back to go finish unloading the truck.

***

“Mom, can I ask you something?” Dean says as he helps unload the dishes into the cabinets in the kitchen.

“Sure, sweetie.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks, his voice small and pathetic, and he’s being dumb and he barely knows Cas but he felt _something_ between them, he knows he did.

Mary snickers and rubs his head, mussing up his hair. “Is this about the boy next door?” she asks knowingly.

Dean blushes and sputters, “What? W—why would you—uh—”

“I saw you talking to him earlier through the window. He’s cute,” she says with a nudge to his shoulder. “You should go for it.”

“But he’s so—I mean, you saw him. He’s totally out of my league,” he mutters, feeling a wave of shame and self-loathing wash over him.

“Dean,” she says sternly, putting a row of glass cups into a cabinet and shutting the door. “That’s a lie and you know it.”

“He said he liked my freckles,” Dean says, still in a state of disbelief over that very fact. “What even is that?”

“Aww,” she squeals, bringing her hands up under her chin and smiling. “How adorable! You should ask him out.”

“I can’t just—no,” Dean says, resolute. “No way.”

“You’re missing out,” she says in a singsong voice, as she walks across the room to get another box.

***

When Dean finishes getting ready the next morning, he hears the doorbell ring and he’s left to wonder who on earth wants something at ass crack of dawn.

Except he opens the door to find Castiel Novak standing on the other side, his hair wet and messy from a shower and his eyes encircled with eyeliner, and _holy hell_ he’s beautiful.

“Cas,” Dean exhales, surprised and flustered. “Hey.”

“Hello, Dean,” he says, shifting on his feet, his Doc Martens scuffing on the floor. “I was wondering if you wanted to walk to school together? You don’t have to, like don’t feel obligated, I just thought—”

“Cas,” Dean says again. He laughs a little, still kind of stunned by the sight in front of him. “I, uh, I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, a small smile on his face.

“Of course. Let me just get my bag and we can go,” he says, pointing behind him. “You can come in, if you want. Or you can wait out here, uh, either way.”

“I’ll just wait here,” Cas says, transferring his hand between his backpack straps.

“Okay. Be right back.”

Dean runs up the stairs and closes his bedroom door behind him. Holy shit. He needs a minute to fucking breathe, because _holy shit_. The most beautiful boy in the world, downstairs waiting for him and acting all flustered like _he’s_ the one with the crush and…no, that’s impossible. Well, maybe not impossible, Dean knows he’s not exactly ugly, but still…unlikely.

He takes a deep inhale and grabs his bag, heading back downstairs. “Let’s go,” he says once he rejoins Cas.

They walk in silence for a minute, Dean wanting to break it but being unable to think of something to say, but Cas fortunately breaks it for him.

“So are you nervous to start your first day?” he asks teasingly.

“Heh, a little,” Dean says honestly. He scratches his ear and asks, “What are the teachers like?”

“Hmm. Well, my two favorites are probably Mills and Hanscum, and I think they’re actually dating. It’s awesome.”

Dean looks over in surprise. “Are teachers allowed to do that?”

Cas shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably. They’ve never come out and said they’re together though, so I don’t really know.”

“Sounds cool,” he agrees. “So is there anyone I should watch out for? Anyone that gives you shit?”

Cas looks at Dean balefully. “Everyone gives me shit, Dean.”

“What?” Dean asks, confused. “Why?”

“Did you miss the part where I look like a My Chemical Romance reject?” Cas snorts.

“I think you look cool,” Dean shrugs, feeling bold enough to say something like that the longer they’re together. “And if I see anyone giving you shit, I’ll give _them_ shit.”

“My hero,” Cas says, deadpan. Dean doesn’t miss the flush on his cheeks, though, and he smiles as he sees it.

***

When Dean walks into the cafeteria at lunch, he’s immediately overwhelmed by a cacophony of noise in the form of noisy teenagers. He looks around the room for an empty seat (or a seat next to a certain blue eyed boy) and he eventually spots him in the northeast corner, sitting with a couple girls.

Oh.

Shit.

Dean didn’t even take that into consideration. Not only could Cas already be with someone (and why wouldn’t he, looking like that), he could be _straight_.

Dean sighs and walks up to his table anyway, because he doesn’t know anyone else and hell if he’s going to sit by himself like a dork.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean mutters, shuffling his feet on the linoleum.

Cas looks up and his eyes widen, before he says, “Dean. Hi.”

“Do you mind if I, uh—” he says, pointing to the empty seat across from him.

“Of course, please,” Cas insists, moving his backpack out of Dean’s way.

“Who’s your friend, Clarence?” a girl with dark hair drawls from next to Cas, her eyes deep and smoky with eyeshadow.

“Oh, Meg, this is Dean, my new neighbor. Dean, these are my friends Meg and Charlie,” he says, pointing to the dark haired girl, then a girl with red hair sitting next to Dean. Okay, so, he introduced them as his _friends_. That was a good sign.

“Hey,” Dean says with an awkward wave. He digs into his spaghetti, just for something to do with his hands.

“How has your first day been, Dean?” Cas asks politely. Dean kind of wishes it was just the two of them, but he’s not going to pass up the opportunity to be a little less alone at this place.

“It’s alright. I have Mills _and_ Hanscum, and you were right, they’re awesome,” he grins.

“Oh, that’s good,” Cas says. “I guess we don’t have any classes together, though.”

Meg snorts from beside him and Dean glares at her. He doesn’t need her opinion, thank you very much.

“Guess not,” he says despondently.

“So Dean,” Charlie says. “Before we begin a lifelong friendship filled with fun, and laughs, and awesome memories, I have to ask…Wars or Trek?” she asks, her face a complete picture of sincerity, and Dean laughs. He already likes her.

“Wars, no contest.”

“Oh,” Charlie laments. “Shit. This could be a problem.”

“Uh, Wars has 1970s Harrison Ford? What else could it need?” Dean asks, like she’s the most oblivious person in the room.

“I’m with Dean on this one,” Cas says, and Dean knew there was a reason he liked him. “You can’t beat young Ford.”

“Why is everyone at this table gay?” Meg questions, though that’s not exactly a thought one should voice out loud. Dean likes Charlie better than her. He really hopes she’s not Cas’s girlfriend. Then again, he hopes Charlie isn’t his girlfriend too.

“You’re just jealous you’re not as cool as us,” Charlie points out.

“Yeah,” Cas agrees. “Meg’s the only straight one in our group, Dean. Unless…?” Cas trails off. Holy shit, he just asked if Dean was straight. Shit.

“Uh, no, I’m not,” Dean mutters. He hasn’t exactly told many people that, but if it means getting in with Cas, he’ll do anything.

Cas just smiles, though, a small and private thing.

***

A few months pass in much of the same way; Dean and Cas walking to school together, sitting with him and Meg and Charlie at lunch, talking about whatever nerdy thing their group of nerds thinks of that day. They get closer, and Dean falls even harder.

Which could be a problem.

***

Cas tells Dean he likes him on a rainy day in the middle of November.

“I’m in love with you,” he murmurs, as they sit on Dean’s bed, their heads inches from each other.

Dean feels a breath he’d been holding for _months_ finally let go, and he kisses him. Their lips connect and it’s soft and it’s sweet and it’s perfect.

It’s everything Dean wants. And it’s everything he can’t have.

Dean tells Cas he can’t go out with him on the same rainy day in the middle of November.

“I love you, Cas. You’re my best friend, and I’m lucky enough to be in love with my best friend. But I can’t be with you.”

Cas’s face is downturned and Dean can see him inhale heavily. “Why not?” he asks, his voice trembling.

“Because I can’t—I’m not—I can’t have sex with you, okay?” he blurts out, the words spilling from his mouth unbidden.

Cas’s eyes widen and his breath hitches. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t…Cas, I’m—I’m asexual. It means—”

“Dean,” Cas interrupts. “That’s not even funny.”

Dean hears the words, but doesn’t register them for several moments. When he finally does, he feels his heart _crack_. Cas thinks his asexuality is a joke.

“Cas, I—I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…” he trails off.

“Dean, you…” he says. He looks at him for a long time, and they stare at each other sadly until something shifts in Cas’s expression. “Dean. Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious, Cas, why would I—”

“Dean, I’m asexual,” he says, his voice quiet and no. Dean didn’t hear that right.

“Shut up,” he simply says.

“Dean. My best friend. Possibly the love of my life. I am _100 percent_ serious.”

“You can’t be—that’s impossible, I—”

Cas laughs incredulously and says, “ _Dean_. Holy shit.”

Their lips collide before they even know what they’re doing, and then it’s just a mess of lips and tongue and declarations of _I love you_ and _meant to be_ and _forever_.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
